Not to Touch the Earth
by kaitsxcoffeexaddiction
Summary: A phone call between Booth in Afghanistan and Brennan in Indonesia during their year apart.


**Not to Touch the Earth.**

"Bones?"

The line crackled. She exhaled a breath with a smile. "Hey Booth"

"So have you found a bone linking us to frogs or something yet?"

"Booth" she says in reprimanding but can't help the chuckle that bubbles from somewhere warm in her chest. She knows he is joking, but she isn't really sure of what she wants to say so she falls back on logic. Maybe this separation wasn't changing things after all. Maybe some things just cannot be changed.

"Homo sapiens are not in the least bit related to frogs. For one thing we are mammals and they are reptiles-"

"Bones, as much as I love hearing you giving me squinty explanations, I'm in the middle of a war zone and managed to get a-hold of a wonderful forensic anthropologist while she is in the Malakooki Islands or whatever and I would very much like to not discuss science. I would much rather know how said forensic anthropologist is doing."

The connection is not very good and his voice doesn't sound like _Booth_ and she knows he is right that the connection could give out at any time.

"I'm fine, Booth. Its me who should be asking how _you_ are."

"I'm fine too, Bones. Still in one piece." She can picture him standing in his fatigues in the shade of a tent out in the unforgiving desert with his shoulders slightly hunched forward. She's picturing him as tired as he sounds. She wonders if he is doing the same thing. She straightens her posture from her own tired slouch and her hand makes to wipe away some dirt and sweat from her brow.

"I-I miss you." Its simple, true. A quite admission.

The line crackles with dead air. It really is a bad connection. She worries she has lost him. Again.

"I miss you too."

And it sounds more tired than anything they have said thus far. It sounds defeated. Tears prick at her eyes.

"Booth…" she says pleadingly on a sigh. She wants to say more. She wants to say _everything_. She wants so much and still doesn't have the words. Change is slow in coming. For all of the months she has spent digging and finely going over the earth in a forgotten part of the world, she has yet to find a speck of Objectivity.

"Don't be a hero" she whispers her entreaty from months ago, from the last time she saw him. Her eyes slide shut on the memory.

More crackling, more silence.

"I'll come back, Bones. I'll come back" he promises with a gruff, crackly voice that doesn't sound like his own but she can feel the words resonate within her nonetheless. He doesn't add '_to you'_ and she thinks that maybe it's only she who is not changing.

She puts her forehead into her free hand. She's not used to hearing him this way.

"Yeah? Me too. I'll come back, too." This is not how this conversation was supposed to go.

"Bones?"

"Yeah, Booth?"

"I…Its really good to hear your voice. I, uh, I really do miss you." Her eyes squeeze tighter and her chest tightens. She still doesn't have the words; they are still buried somewhere in this jungle that she has yet to unearth. But she does have _his_ words and, though she doesn't acknowledge it, she has a lot more than his _words_.

"Booth, please…don't be a hero" _Please come back in one piece._

"Bones, I keep my promises." It so serious and full of _meaning_ that even though he is thousands of miles away, it feels like he is standing right next to her. She shivers at the sensation.

"I know," said much the same way as a lifetime ago when there were things like _30 years, or 40 or 50 _and _moving on_.

"Booth, I…I'm really glad to hear your voice, too." She pauses before adding, "Ms. Wick's voice can be quite grating upon prolonged exposure."

He laughs a fairly hearty laugh through the poorly connected lines and she smiles in return.

"I don't know who has it worse, you with Daisy or me with these pain-in-the-ass trainees" he joked.

"Don't we make quite a pair" she tried to keep the pace of turning the conversation to a lighter tone.

"Yeah, we do." So much for that. The silence draws for a moment before Booth speaks again.

"Look Bones, I have to go but you take care of yourself out there. Lots of bad things can go bump in the night."

"I will if you will."

"Bones…the coffee cart. I'll see you at the coffee cart. Just-" But the connection is gone, severed. They are still thousands of miles apart.

She looks down to the satellite phone clutched in her white-knuckled hand. They are apart, the change has happened. Yet she still feels the same. She still misses him, more than she thought she would.

She allows a wistful smile upon remembering her earlier thoughts. _Maybe this separation wasn't changing things after all. Maybe some things just cannot be changed._

She rises from the upturned crate she had been sitting on under a tent in the middle of the Maluku Islands. She walks back out into the humid jungle pushing back all thoughts of her recent conversation and thoughts of returning home to continue her pursuit of scientific inquiry and personal hunt for objectivity.


End file.
